


when this life is all I know

by Claudia_bm



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cousin Incest, Fix-It, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kissing, M/M, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 22:12:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13936479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claudia_bm/pseuds/Claudia_bm
Summary: There were scars that mapped Erik's body, and there were wounds that mapped his soul. For so long Erik had kept them all hidden, let them fester, but now, under T'Challa's ever gentle and watchful eyes, he began his long healing process. A snippet on how T'Challa helped him get to where he wanted to be.In other words: I saw the movie and Erik is in a serious need of hugs.





	when this life is all I know

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed. All mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Title taken from Pray For Me. I know, so original, but the song is so T'Cherik I can't help myself.

“They were lovers, you know.”

“Hm?” T’Challa said, distracted by a mole he just discovered on N’Jadaka’s forehead, near his hairline.

“My father and uncle…,” Erik caught himself, “Zuri, I meant.”

As he finished the sentence, Erik curled in on himself a little bit, and since they were kind of pressed heads to toes right now, T’Challa noticed immediately. He tightened his hold around N’Jadaka’s broad shoulders, pressing him even closer against his chest. They had to shuffle a little to rearrange their long limbs to fit around each other again. Erik sighed. He closed his eyes and leaned into T’Challa’s neck. The windows were closed, but somehow the sound of the rain wiggled itself into the room anyway. Reminded Erik of the old days. He found himself quite soothed by the staccato drip drop, and the motion of T’Challa’s hand stroking up and down his arm.

“Ain’t never really try to hide that shit, back then,” he continued, now safely hidden in T’Challa embrace. “Ain’t never treat it as a big deal either, you know? Guess it helped me, growing up thinking it was normal. Didn’t lose my shit when I was suddenly into this dude in sixth grade.”

Erik fell silent. The quietness in the room wasn’t awkward but T’Challa felt he should fill it anyway. “It is not frowned upon in Wakanda.” He said, kissing the top of N’Jadaka’s head because he could. His cousin seemed especially talkative today, T’Challa thought with a smile. N’Jadaka was not the quiet type. Far from it. Usually it was hard to shut him up. But as easy it was for words to roll of N’Jadaka’s tongue most of the time, the man seemed physically unable to talk about anything that wasn’t on the surface. For him to be bringing up his baba unprompted, a topic that was still causing him great pain, the therapy session N’Jadaka had had earlier that day must have been particularly helpful.

“Figured,” Erik replied. He had seen couples holding hands and kissing, walking around the streets. It wasn’t the fact that nobody even threw them a glance that stuck with him the most. It was how relaxed they were, how comfortable. “Even if you ain’t scared, you’re still scared. The hostility from society, from strangers, from the media makes you scare. In public it’s hard to be like that. Guard down one hundred percent. Survival instinct, you know?”

T’Challa hummed an acknowledgement. He had never been through that, couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like, and so chose to not have an opinion. Still, his heart seized at the mental image of a baby Erik, having no one but himself, surviving in a place that told him he should be ashamed about damn near every aspect of his being. Once again T’Challa found himself wishing his baba had brought the boy home. It was a common reoccurring thought for him these past two years, even though rationally he knew wishing the past could somehow be changed was a useless thing to do. It was just... when T’Challa thought about the great deal of suffering they could have saved N’Jadaka from, he became a little bit illogical. Just a little bit. He still hadn’t quite forgiven his baba and Zuri for it, and he didn’t think he ever would. At least they had the future to look forward to now. In a weird way, T’Challa would be forever grateful for N’Jadaka’s determination to find his way back home, just as much as he now appreciated the man’s resolve to get help and heal.

N’Jadaka nuzzled T’Challa’s throat, the place just under his jaw, almost shyly, in a manner that was reminiscent of a big cat. T’Challa, getting the hint, tilted N’Jadaka’s head up with a finger under his chin. His cousin’s eyes were dark and shiny in the half-lit room, full of softness that he usually wouldn’t show to the light. T’Challa bumped their foreheads together playfully, before bending down to lay a gentle kiss on N’Jadaka’s lips. And another one. And another one.

“What made you think of uncle and Zuri?” T’Challa asked, to which the man in his arms immediately made a face.

“Nah. Can’t be asking that when you’re kissing people, man. Ain’t right.”

Judging by the smile that still lingered at the corner of his mouth, though, he was more amused than anything else. T’Challa laughed.

“You brought it up. I was just curious.”

N’Jadaka chuckled, but then all of a sudden the sombre look from before settled back on his face. He looked... almost guilty.

“I walked in on them on dad’s bed once. Just reading a map together, planning all that revolution shit. And... and they looked like the real deal, you know? Fairytale ending and all that shit, at least to a ten-year-old. My father loved Zuri, but he betrayed him anyway.” Erik’s eyes started burning and he looked away, hoping T’Challa would somehow not notice. No such luck. The King caught the sole tear that leaked out and tenderly wiped it away. Unlike earlier, this time T’Challa knew he shouldn’t say anything. Knew he should let N’Jadaka work through it on his own. T’Challa silently traced the curve of N’Jadaka’s lips with his thumb, waiting.

“It’s dumb,” Erik continued after a while, “but... it ain’t that much different from what we’re doing right now.”

Oh. T’Challa thought. Of course. He’d always known that N’Jadaka’s trust issue ran deep. His life, the system and the people who were supposed to be his family had let him down in every way possible. Over the years, T’Challa had once or twice pondered just how much the relationship between Zuri and his uncle had affected N’Jadaka, and in which way. But dissecting N’Jadaka’s past and identifying all the traumas he’d accumulated proved a long, challenging process. Now though, he guessed he had his answer.

T’Challa wondered if N’Jadaka thought he was N’Jobu or Zuri in this particular scenario.

“But hey, I did beat you half to death and toss yo ass down a waterfall already, so I guess we got that outta the way, right?” N’Jadaka said, chuckling. A clumsy attempt to save the mood.

T’Challa shifted, putting some distance between them. N’Jadaka’s fingers on his forearms went lax as he let the King push him away. There was... something in his expression but Erik couldn’t read it. He stared back at T’Challa, waiting for the King’s judgement. Rarely did T’Challa see N’Jadaka allow himself to look that vulnerable in front of another person.

“ _My heart_ ,” T’Challa said in his mother tongue, “you know I’ve long forgiven you. And as long as things are under my control, and you don’t force my hands, I will never fail you.”

Promising N’Jadaka they wouldn’t turn against each other no matter what would immediately set up alarm bells inside N’Jadaka’s head. He would never believe that. That was not how his mind worked, not what the world had taught him.

The next words, T’Challa better chose carefully

“I know you know that if the day comes when I have to choose between you and Wakanda, there can only be one option for me, as the King. But,” he reached out to touch the jagged scar on N’Jadaka’s chest. His cousin inhaled sharply, “I did successfully cheat the system once. I promise you, I will try my best to find a way to do it again.”

And that was what Zuri should have done. But just like T’Chaka, he was too fixated on the old way, couldn’t ever dream of bending the rules, not even for someone he loved, if he had loved N’Jobu at all. T’Challa knew N’Jadaka had the same question, but maybe this was one of the things that he’d be better off not knowing. After all, Zuri had made no attempt to direct N’Jobu away from his wrongful path and then abandoned his treasured son as the Prince lay dead. A definitive ‘yes’ could just make things worse.

N’Jadaka tentatively placed his hand on top of the one T’Challa had on his chest. The King flattened his palm against his cousin’s skin, feeling the fastened beatings of his heart.

“I love you,” T’Challa said, “I won’t let you betray me, N’Jadaka.”

The way T’Challa breathed out his royal name seemed to have affected N’Jadaka. He moved to cradle the King’s face his both hands. T’Challa’s eyes were calm and open, honest.

“Idiot.” N’Jadaka mumbled before leaning forward. T’Challa met him halfway.

N’Jadaka let T’Challa deepen the kiss, eagerly accepting the King’s tongue into his mouth. At the same time, he shoved at T’Challa’s shoulder until the King rolled onto his back and climbed on top of him, grinning when T’Challa’s arms wound themselves around his waist.

“You know I have to tell your therapist about this right?” T’Challa teased when they parted. He couldn’t help himself, however, and lifted his head to kiss the slope of N’Jadaka’s nose instead.

“Don’t ruin it, man.”

But there was that smile on N’Jadaka’s lips again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm frankly in shock there's no N'Jobu/Zuri or T'Chaka/Zuri fic.


End file.
